


you're the one that i want

by azurstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor!Cas, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, hospital au, nurse!Dean, request :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurstiel/pseuds/azurstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on <a href="http://thimblings.tumblr.com/post/80544232944/thing-i-really-want-to-see-but-cant-write-au">this prompt</a><br/>for thimblings :))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

           Dean Winchester sipped his black coffee pleasantly as he walked through the doors of the St Peter General Hospital.

           “Hey, Dean!” Becky Rosen, the always-enthusiastic receptionist greeted from the front desk.

           “Morning, Becky,” he smiled as he clocked in and made his way to the nursing unit.

He sat down at his desk and checked his outpatient bookings. Not too many patients that day. That was good. He could probably get out by 6 pm, maybe 5:30 if he was lucky.

           “Mornin’, Dean,” Missouri Moseley, the resident holistic nurse said as she sat down at her computer a couple feet away from him.

           “What’s up, Missouri?” he replied amiably.

           “You know what’s up, we’ve only worked here together for three years,” she quipped. “You ready for the interns today?”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “Oh shi—shoot,” he corrected as a sneezing little boy and his mother walked by. Missouri shook her head and chuckled.

           “You’d forget your head if it weren’t on your shoulders.” she said affectionately.

           “Probably,” he agreed, scratching his head. “Man, I forgot all about the new interns coming in.”

A flash of a cherry-red ponytail ducked around the corner and sat down at Dean’s other side. “You did? _How_? They’re like the highlight of the year.” Anna Milton, the research nurse asked.

            “Yeah, if you like watching the hope slowly drain from their eyes as they realize this place is depressing as hell.” Meg Masters quipped cynically as she sauntered in and sat next to Anna.

            Dean snorted. “Meg, the only depressing thing in here is you.”

            “Yeah, and the five million people dying.” She joked, checking her outpatient bookings. She groaned. “Ugh, I’ve got like thirty patients I need to tend today. Why don’t these people stop getting their brains injured? I wanna be out of here by Dr. Sexy tonight.”

            “Well, you might as well start now,” Missouri nodded toward the hallway.

            Dean chuckled as Meg made her way down the hall, groaning all the while.

A tall brown-haired man walked through the hospital entrance, his head almost hitting the top of the doorway. Dean jumped up and jogged toward the lobby. “Ay, Sammy!”

The tall man turned and grinned. “Mornin’, Dean. You forgot your pager at the diner last night.” The small black object flew through the air to Dean, who caught it neatly in one hand. “Alriiiight. Thanks, bro. Was hopin’ you’d bring it today.”

            “Man, you gotta hold onto your stuff. Next time you won’t be so lucky, and Meg’ll get a hold of it and never give it back.” Sam scolded. He stepped forward and revealed a slender blonde woman next to him. She tried stepping back again behind Sam but it was too late.

            “Ruby, what are you doing? Clock in and let’s get going.” Dean ordered, giving her an annoyed look.

The oncology nurse rolled her eyes and emerged from behind Sam. “’Course. I’m coming.”

As Ruby walked past Dean, he turned and shot his brother an accusing, questioning (and slightly gleeful) look. Sam put his hands up in surrender.

“ _You’re not bangin’ her, are you?”_ Dean mouthed.

Sam shot him a disgusted look and walked away toward the oncology ward, shaking his head. Dean grinned and returned to the nursing unit. Meg walked past again, rolling an oxygen tank behind her.

“Hey, the freshmen are coming in ten.” She alerted them. “Oh, and Anna, can you write up a consent form for Mrs. Scott in ICU by 8?”

Anna nodded in confirmation and Dean went to find the chief attending, Dr. Victor Henricksen, to get ready for the interns. He jogged up the stairwells to the third floor offices and knocked on the third door on the left. He noticed Victor’s nameplate was missing from the door and frowned slightly. The white door swung open and- that was definitely _not_ Henricksen.

           “Hello, do you need something?” A gravelly voice inquired, sounding irritated. Dean wondered who he was and- wow, were those contacts, because those were possibly the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen, and they did funny things to the pit of his stomach- “Are you looking for Dr. Henricksen?”

            Dean realized he was staring, so he ducked his head and glanced at the ceiling, then at his feet. “Oh, uh, yeah. Um, do you know where he is?”

            “Yes.” The man said. He stepped aside and allowed Dean into the office. “He has transferred to Highland Hospital in Oakland. He left last Thursday, didn’t you notice?”

Dean opened his mouth then stopped and considered this. “Oh, uh, no. No one told me. So, are you here to replace him?” _Stupid question, of course he is_ , Dean chided himself.

            “Yes, I am. I’m Doctor Castiel Novak.” The man extended his hand.

            “I’m Dean Winchester, head nurse.” They shook hands. “Cool name. Biblical, right?”

Dr. Novak nodded, staring directly into Dean’s eyes.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Dean cleared his throat and said, “Cool, cool. Uh, so, the new premed interns are getting here soon, I just wanted to go over some things with Victor. But he's obviously not here.” Another beat passed. "Well, I’m going to go down now.” He turned to go out the office door.

            “Wait, I’ll come with you.” Dr. Novak turned and slung a stethoscope around the neck of his labcoat and grabbed a clipboard off his desk.

They awkwardly went down the flights of stairs in silence. Dean ran through at least a hundred topics to break the uncomfortable silence but he voiced none. Finally, in the lobby, Dr. Novak turned to him and handed him a list.

            “Here are the names of the interns and who they are assigned to.”

Dean scanned the list for his own name and found that someone named Charlie Bradbury was assigned to him. Cool.

The hospital entrance opened and a group of around 10 kids right out of college walked in, in backpacks and bright, clean scrubs, looking nervous and eager.

           “Good morning, doctors.” Dr. Novak greeted them. “I’m Dr. Castiel Novak, and I’m your chief attending physician. This is Dean Winchester, your head nurse. He will be showing you to the groups you will be working with today. I encourage you to learn as much as possible.” Dr. Novak’s pager beeped. He glanced at it, nodded at the interns and at Dean, and dashed out of the room.

Dean and the interns watched him go. They could hear him yelling orders in the distance. Dean blinked, turned back to the mob, and clapped his hands once. They turned their attention back to him.

           “Okay, gang. Welcome to St. Peters General. So, can any of you tell me what to look for in a euremic patient? Yes, um… Mr. Harry Spangler?” Dean asked, looking at the intern in front of him.

The intern looked like a deer in headlights and glanced around in a panic. Dean took pity on him and looked back down at the sheet in his hands to give another intern a chance to whisper the answer to him. And sure enough, a redheaded girl leaned over and rescued him.

           “Uh, infection?” the first stammered.

Dean looked back up. The redheaded girl smiled innocently. He grinned at Harry. “Very good. Okay, let’s get going. I’ll take you to your wings. Let’s start with the medical interns, since we’re right here. Come with me.”

            He led each individual group to their respective places in the hospital, finally ending up at the nurses’ station. He surveyed the three standing before him. He looked at the redheaded girl from before.

            “What’s your name?” he asked.

            “Charlie Bradbury.” She replied happily.

            “Awesome. You’re with me. And, uh, Andy, right? You’re with Missouri here.” His beeper pinged. He glanced at it, then turned to the last girl. “Rachel, right? Could you go drop an NG tube on the patient in 216? Thanks. By the way, you’ll be working with Anna. She’s easiest to find in the crowd with that hair.” Anna giggled and the intern scuttled away. Dean grinned at Charlie. “Well, maybe Anna won’t be easiest to find anymore. Come with me. We have a patient.”

            They walked briskly for a couple of seconds in silence.

            “So… Have you worked here a long time?” Charlie asked, trying to keep up. Dean slowed a little.

            “Uh, three years.” He thought for a moment, unsure of what to say next. “Excited about your first day?”

            “Yeah. Nervous though. You know. Four years of pre-med, four years of med school, but it’s not the real thing. The whole touching real people thing, cutting them and stuff... it’s kind of daunting.” She looked up at him. He smiled.

            “Yeah, I get it.”

            They entered a room where an old woman slept on a hospital bed. Dean called Charlie beside the bed and had her set up an IV. She checked the patient’s armband to the IV bag then hung it on the pole. She connected the drip chamber to the bag and screwed in the secondary line. Then she stood by the patient and swabbed her arm with alcohol. Charlie’s hand with the needle shook above the patient’s forearm. Dean looked at Charlie with concern. She looked very frustrated and her brow was furrowed, staring at the patient’s forearm.

            “Hey, come on. You can do it. Just stick the needle in.” Dean encouraged.

            Charlie looked up at him, distressed. He took pity on her and took her hand with the needle and pushed it into the patient’s arm.

            “See? It’s not so bad.” He consoled.

She smiled at him. “Thanks.”

Just then, Dr. Novak stormed into the room. “Dammit, Mrs. Campbell, I did not want to see you back here again." he muttered to the patient. "Ridiculous. Back in here every day this weekend. Nurse, I’ll need an ABG. Good job placing the IV, intern. First one on a real patient, huh? Oh, place a nasal cannula too.” His pager beeped again. “ _Damn_ it.” And he swept out of the room as quickly as he came.

Dean and Charlie looked at each other and giggled.

            “He’s something, huh?” she laughed.

            “Yeah,” Dean grinned, still looking at the door that Castiel was just in.

* * *

            Dean was in line at the hospital cafeteria when he saw Dr. Novak sitting all alone in a table. _Just go_ , he chastised himself, then walked over and sat down across from him.

            “Hey, doc,” Dean smiled.

            “Hello, Dean,” Castiel acknowledged and looked down into his salad.

Dean hesitated. “Um… So.” He started. “What’s up, uh, Castiel?” he tried.

Castiel forked some arugula into his mouth and smirked. “Nothing much, just eating a Caesar salad,” he responded.

            “Oh, well, I knew that, I mean…” Dean stumbled. “So, what brought you to St. Peter’s?”

Castiel crunched on a crouton. “Well, I just moved all the way from Portland, Maine to the Castro District, and I heard about the opening here. So I applied, and on some miracle they let me stay.”

            "That's lucky. We like to call ourself the best hospital in San Francisco- wait, did you say the Castro District?" Dean blurted. 

Castiel lowered his fork. "Yes. Will that be a problem, Nurse Winchester?"

            "No, no, of course not. God, no." he said hurriedly. "No, this is San Francisco, it won't be a problem at all. Hell, even I-" he stopped, and felt his ears burn. He knew he had almost given away too much. He saw Castiel look up, brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean, I live right near the Castro, in the Haight District." he saved. 

Castiel looked down into his salad, then back up at Dean with a smile, relief -and, was that disappointment? No, it couldn't be- in his eyes. "So you're more into the hippie scene."

           Dean snorted. "Whatever, man. It was only a hippie scene in, like, the 60s. When I wasn't alive." He happened to glance past Castiel as he took a drink of orange juice and caught the gleeful eyes of Meg and Anna, sitting at their usual table. He watched as the resident heart surgeon, Jody Mills, walked in and was promptly stopped by them and pulled down into a chair at their table. They continued sending him ecstatic looks as he talked with Dr. Novak, to the point where Castiel subconsciously turned around in his chair to see what Dean kept looking at, which caused all the nurses and the surgeon to whip their heads around and giggle harder. Dean was rolling his eyes pointedly at them when Castiel checked his watch and started. "Oh, my lunch break's over. See you later." he smiled, and stood up.

Dean smiled back up at him. "Yeah, man, see you later." Then he closed his eyes and cringed, because as soon as the doctor left the room, three women rushed over to him and sat themselves down at his table.

            "Oh my _God_ , Dean!" Anna squealed from the seat Castiel just occupied.

            "I haven't seen you flirting that hard since that car accident patient Lisa Braeden was checked in," Meg remarked, grinning. The women shared a giggle.

            "Ladies, please," Dean joked. "I was being hospitable." then he snorted. "Heh, hospitable. Get it, because we work in a hospital." The nurses and Jody shared an eye roll. He saw them and frowned. That was hilarious, because hospitals and stuff. "Anyway, guys, he's new here. I just thought he'd need a friend or something."

            "Or _something_ ," Jody teased. "I should come down here more often. We don't get hot new _surgeons_. Those physicians get all the fun."

Meg snickered. "Jeez, I haven't seen anyone look as good in scrubs as that man does- well, besides me."

Dean held a hand to his heart. "I'm insulted. I think I look great in these green fashion statements. They were in Vogue last season, right?" he joked.

Meg rolled her eyes. "Could you be any gayer?"

            "Not ga-" he started.

            "Mm-hm." she replied. "Wait. Is _he_? You're not going after a straight man, are you?"

Dean pressed his lips together. "Well, he said he lives in the Castro-"

This set off another squealing session. " _Dean_ , you're so lucky!" Anna clapped her hands happily. "I'm totally setting you two up."

            " _Don't_ -" Dean protested

            "Damn, he is gorgeous though, isn't he? You could serve tea on that ass." Jody grinned. 

            "You guys are insufferable. Hey, do you know where Ruby is? She literally tried to hide from me behind Sam this morning." Dean tried to change the subject. It worked, not without a suspicious glance from Meg.

            "No, I haven't seen her all day. Yeesh, she's been hanging around your brother lately, though. Like, more than usual." Anna offered. "Oh, and Missouri has a patient that she's having a breakthrough with right now, she told me to tell you."

Meg looked bored with the topic she had no share in. So, naturally, she shifted the conversation back onto Castiel. "Wait, but did you guys see that doctor's _eyes_?!" She baited Anna.

Anna bit. "They were _so_ blue!" she exclaimed happily.

            Dean groaned. This was going to be a long lunch break.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was just getting ready to leave that evening when Dr. Novak stopped in front of him and handed him a vial of carmine-colored blood.

          “Nurse Winchester, I hope you weren’t planning on leaving because I’ve got a six-year-old boy who just checked in with extreme fatigue and shortness of breath, and he's bleeding too easily.  We need a CBC ay-sap.”

Dean frowned at the vial and looked back up at the doctor. “A little boy? What are you doing in pediatrics? Isn’t that Jess’s department?”

 Dr. Novak squinted at Dean. “Dr. Moore has left for the evening because her mother is sick, so I’m covering for her. Will you or will you not run the blood?”

          “Hey, I’m on it.” He took the blood sample from Dr. Novak and watched him stalk away, labcoat billowing dramatically. _Sheesh_ , he thought to himself as he brought the blood sample to the hematopathologist.

          “We need a CBC,” Dean told him. He got a nod in response.

As Dean walked back to the nursing unit to gather his things, he thought about the symptoms Dr. Novak mentioned the little boy had. Extreme fatigue, shortness of breath… _Sounds a lot like leukemia_ , he mused dejectedly. _That’s awful. The poor parents- God, this is why I didn’t go into pediatrics._

Dean felt bleak as he sat at his desk, waiting for the lab results back. On a whim, he shrugged on his coat and ran down the street to the Starbucks a couple blocks away. Fifteen minutes later, he walked back in with three hot chocolates in a cardboard carrier.

          “What, the coffee here not good enough for you?” Meg teased when she saw him.

          “No, it actually sucks, but these aren’t for me.” Dean responded, setting the cocoas down on his desk. He started walking toward the hematopathologist’s office. He spotted the file waiting in the outbox and hoped for the best. _Come on, good news_ , he worried as he scanned the file. Then he exhaled deeply. Leukemia.

He walked back to his desk dejectedly and grabbed the hot chocolates, then made his way to the room where the little boy and his parents waited. Castiel was talking to them, trying to make them laugh and sitting next to the boy on the bed. Dean sadly watched from the door.

          “You like Thomas the Tank Engine? Me too, buddy.” He smiled. The little boy laughed. “My favorite’s James!” he squealed, then his smile slipped and he went into a hard spasm of coughing. Dr. Novak’s smile faltered. He turned to speak to the parents and noticed Dean standing in the doorway.

          “Oh, here’s Nurse Dean! Do you have the bloodwork I asked for?” he asked, eyeing the file in his hands.

          “Yeah,” Dean replied. He crossed the room to the boy’s parents and handed them each a hot cocoa. “Your son has leukemia. I am _so_ sorry.”

The mother promptly dropped her hot chocolate and started sobbing. Her husband murmured to her, tears filling his eyes too. The little boy sat up in his bed and winced. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” he pleaded, fear coloring his tone.

Dr. Novak patted his back. “Ssh, it’s okay. You ever learn about blood cells in school? Well, you just have a lot of white blood cells, which slows down your red blood cell makers. Okay? You’ll be okay. We’ll just give you a couple shots, or you can have pills, whichever you like. You might lose some hair, though.”

The little boy looked fearfully into Dr. Novak’s eyes. “Doctor Cas, I don’t want to lose my hair! Will I be bald like those kids in the hospital commercials?”

Dr. Novak kneeled by his bed. “Maybe, but I heard somewhere that bald people are smarter.” He grinned at the boy, who looked confused.

          “What do you mean? Who is?”

Dr. Novak smiled. “Well, what about Professor X from X-men? He can control things with his mind. I think he’s a pretty smart guy. And Nick Fury from the Avengers? He’s also pretty super. Hey, when this is all over, and you’re all better, maybe you’ll be a superhero too.”

The boy smiled happily. “Cool.”

Dr. Novak turned to the parents. “I’m going to need to take him to the oncology unit, Dean here will explain everything to you and tell you what we’re going to do.” He wheeled the cot out of the room and disappeared from sight. Dean swallowed.

           “Okay, I know it’s hard. I’m really sorry about your son. He has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, which means the bone marrow makes too many immature lymphocytes, which are a type of blood cell.”

          “What’s his outlook, nurse? What are the statistics?” the boy’s father asked thickly.

          “Do you guys know about the 5-year survival rate?” Dean asked.

          “Does… does that mean he’ll only live for five years?” the mother asked tearfully.

          “No, no, ma’am.” He cringed. He should have worded it better. “The 5-year survival rate refers to the percentage of patients who live _at least_ five years after their cancer is diagnosed.” He paused. The parents were still looking at him expectantly. “Well, the 5-year survival rate for kids like your son with ALL has greatly increased over time and is now more than 85%. So there’s a very high chance of survival.”

The boy’s mother exhaled shakily. “Well, that’s better than nothing.” she sighed.

“Hey, ma’am, it’s alright. It’s going to be okay, because Dr. Novak has him right now, and he’s the best we’ve got. And the oncologist -that’s the cancer doctor- he’s my own brother, and I know he’ll do the best he can for your son. Now, are you feeling up to talking about treatment methods?”

II

Dean left that room with his knees shaking. He felt terrible, that poor boy, those poor parents. He caught Sam walking out of his office and stopped him by the arm.

          “Hey, Sam, you see Dr. Novak anywhere?” he asked.

          “Uh, yeah. He came in with this little kid a couple minutes ago and I told the kid about chemo. The doctor just left. Poor kid, though, he looked like he was only six or seven.” Sam answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

          “Yeah, he’s six.” Dean frowned. “Did Dr. Novak say where he was going?”

          “Nah, but he headed that way.” Sam pointed down the hall.

          “Thanks.” Dean started in the direction Sam pointed, but on a whim he popped his head inside Sam’s office. The little boy sat there sniffling. “Hey, buddy,” Dean said softly.

The boy looked up. “Hi, nurse.”

          “Your name’s Miles, right?” Miles nodded. “You’re a cute kid, Miles. Green eyes, just like me.” Miles peered into Dean’s eyes and Dean batted his eyelashes at him. The boy giggled.

          “So, I hear you like Thomas the Tank Engine,” Dean smiled. “Well, let me see if I can get another nurse to bring some trains up.” Dean reached for his pager and typed in a short message to Anna.

_BRING UP ALL THE THOMAS TRAINS WE HAVE. ESPECIALLY JAMES. SAM’S OFFICE._

A couple minutes later, Anna showed up at the door with a bucket of Tank Engines and a couple Thomas DVDs. She handed them to Dean with a smile and chatted pleasantly with Miles as Dean set up the DVDs in the player and brought over a tray for Miles to set his trains on.

          “Hey, Anna, would you mind hanging out with Miles for a little while?” Dean asked.

          “Of course!” she smiled at Miles, and then typed something on her pager. Dean’s beeped. _CANCER?_ It read. Dean looked up and nodded at Anna. Her eyes saddened, but she turned to Miles with the same enthusiasm as before. Dean alerted Miles’s parents of his whereabouts, then set off looking for Dr. Novak, still holding a hot cocoa. Or a lukewarm cocoa. He zapped it in the microwave and walked down the hall in the direction Sam pointed earlier. As each minute passed, Dean got more and more annoyed with Castiel. How dare he leave? A little boy with leukemia needed him and he just disappeared. Finally, Dean walked out into the stairwell and spotted a hunched over shape sitting at the bottom of the steps. _Oh, no_.

          Dean cleared his throat to alert the doctor that he wasn’t alone, and the doctor whipped his head around and sniffled. Oh, God, his eyes were red. He studied Dean and turned forward again.

          “Hey,” Dean said softly, sitting down next to Castiel. “Dude, are you okay?”

Castiel rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just- stress.” He scratched the stubble on his chin and cast his eyes down.

Dean moved his hand, hovering it over the doctor’s back, but then cringed and set it limply down beside him again.

          “No, you’re not.” Dean handed him the hot chocolate. Castiel took it and looked graciously into Dean’s eyes, which made Dean’s stomach twist in an altogether not unpleasant way. “I know it’s tough, with Miles, but I’m sure he’ll be okay. The stats are really good, and he seems like a strong kid. He’ll make it, man.”

Dr. Novak laughed bitterly and looked at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a stairwell having a nurse comfort me. I feel like one of your patients.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever, doc. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll visit Miles with you anytime you want.”

Castiel bumped Dean with his shoulder. “Thank you.” He turned and looked into Dean’s eyes. Dean opened his mouth slightly, then shut it. His eyes flickered from Castiel’s eyes to his mouth. They looked chapped. He wondered how they’d feel against- Dean, get a grip. He noticed he’d subconsciously moved closer to the doctor, and was tilting his head, and-

          “Hey, Dean? You down here? That little boy’s still in my office, and the research nurse is watching Thomas the Tank Engine with him on my TV?”

The nurse and the doctor sprang apart at the sound of Sam’s voice echoing down the stairwell. Dr. Novak quickly cleared his throat and called up, “We’re on our way.” and started jogging up the steps. It took Dean a second to realize what just happened, but when he did, it wasn’t the jogging up the stairs that turned his face bright scarlet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i added an extra section at the bottom because i felt this chapter wasn't long enough ~~and because there wasn't enough charlie~~  
>  so! hope you like it!!

The next day, Dean came into work with violet painting circles underneath his eyes. He didn’t know exactly how many hours he’d slept last night but he knew it was less than he should have. The thing was, he’d spent too many of those hours in bed thinking about that moment in the stairwell, and what would have happened if Sam hadn’t come in.

           “Morning, sunshine!” Meg sang, coming out of the break room, spotting Dean at the front desk. She tossed a cup of coffee at him. Dean saw it coming at him out of the corner of his eye, started, and batted it to the floor, causing the lid to pop off and coffee to spread all over the porcelain tiles. Meg laughed.

           “Oh, dear,” Becky fretted. She picked up the phone and dialed a few digits. “Yes, we need the janitor, please!”

Dean glared at Meg. “What the hell, Meg?” he demanded.

She shrugged. “What’s your problem today? You look as tired as a nurse who was on call last night. Oh, wait! That was me!” she walked away indignantly. Dean rolled his eyes, watching her go.

Benny Lafitte, the janitor, rolled in his cart.

           “Whoa, brother, you look as tired as-” he started.

           “ _Yes_ , I get it.” Dean snapped, and stomped away.

Benny and Becky exchanged a look. She made an “I don’t know” noise, and Benny began to mop up the coffee spill.

           Dean set his things down on his desk and ran through the morning routine. He took a couple phone calls from doctors asking for medications and faxed the premed orders down to the pharmacy, and checked up on a couple patients in the ICU. As Dean goes through his daily schedule, he finds himself unconsciously searching for Castiel, his eyes roaming the hallways of the hospital and glancing into the hospital rooms, looking for the ridiculously blue eyes and pink mouth that was so close to his own last night.

~~~

           By lunch, he still hadn’t run into the doctor, and he sat down at the table with his fellow nurses feeling vaguely disappointed. He refused to acknowledge his disappointment, or why he felt that way, so he bit into his burger ferociously. Meg pouted from the seat diagonal from him, and Anna filled the air with happy chatter, cracking jokes that made Missouri snort into her yogurt. After the first hundred dirty looks, Dean set his burger down and rested his chin in his hands.

           “Meg, I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning.” He batted his eyelashes at her in feigned innocence.

           She huffed. “Good.” Then she smiled and ripped off a piece of her pizza in her teeth, and chewed it pointedly at him with her mouth open. Dean laughed and threw an orange peel at her. But before Meg could throw a piece of crust back at him, Anna whisper-shrieked, “Guys! Look.” She nodded at the entrance to the cafeteria that Sam just walked through, laughing at something Ruby said to him. She was looking at him in a way that made Dean want to barf. She smiled at him and said something that made him burst into another bout of laughter as he walked to the chief doctors’ table. Ruby made her way to the nurses’ table, nodded at them all, sat down and opened up a fruit cup. The nurses all looked at each other, unsure of what to say. The silence quickly grew uncomfortable. Anna opened her mouth to start the conversation again, but seemed to swallow down her words. Meg’s eyes darted back and forth between Ruby and Dean. Dean looked around the table, then back to Ruby.

           “So, uh…” Dean started. Ruby glanced up at him and raised her eyebrows, then continued eating. Dean tried again. “You’ve been hanging out with my brother a lot lately,” he said into his burger.

Ruby popped a forkful of penne in her mouth and gestured to herself with the fork. “Oncology nurse.” Then she pointed her fork toward the table Sam was at. “Oncologist.” She scooped up some more pasta and ate it.

           “Fair enough,” Dean replied, but he still felt some uneasiness about Ruby’s behavior. Ruby stood up with her now-empty tray.

           “Well, I’m done, so you guys can go back to whatever dumb shit you were talking about before.” She walked away and threw her tray violently onto the stack, knocking a few dirty trays over.

           “ _Hey_ , I’m still your supervisor!” he called after her. She kept walking, and Dean strongly suspected she was flipping him off with the hand hidden in front of her. Missouri raised her eyebrows, unimpressed with how Ruby acted.

           “Damn,” Meg remarked.

           Lunch was then cut short for Dean, because, sure enough, the EKG paged him urgently. He had to run up and do not one, not two, but _three_ back-to-back Lexiscan heart tests. After that, he headed to the to the Telemetry Unit to speak with a patient and their family about the next day’s coronary bypass surgery, and then scheduled the surgery with the OR booking clerk. During a few minutes of freedom, he thought about Dr. Novak, as if he hadn’t done enough of that the night before. He had hardly seen the doctor the entire day, only catching fleeting glimpses of a labcoat around a corner and a dark bedhead bent over in a patient’s room. Dean felt angry with himself for seeking out the doctor earlier and decided that he wasn’t interested in him anymore, if he ever was. _Who cares about that douchebag anyway,_ he grumbled in his thoughts. _If he won’t even come and talk to me, then I won’t talk to him. I don’t need him. He’s a coworker anyway; it’d just be messy._ Dean left that evening feeling exceedingly pleased with himself and proud that his mind had power over his heart.

* * *

           The next few days passed without incident, but more than enough awkward eye-contact-avoidance. The only problem in Dean’s life was Charlie.

           “I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” Charlie said, looking almost on the verge of tears. She held a scalpel in her hand, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Dean could never stand her being upset; he had grown so fond of her over the couple weeks she had been interning. So once again, he took the scalpel out of her hands and made the incision for her. Guilt spread over Dean as he handed a thoracic catheter to Charlie for insertion in the patient’s side. She hesitated, then shoved it through the patient’s thora. Almost incredulously, she turned to Dean for approval, a big smile on her face. Blood flowed through the tube and Dean checked the monitor.

           “Normal rhythm; nice going.” Dean smiled back at Charlie, but his it dimmed a little. “Hey, man, you’re making great progress. But I can’t keep doing procedures for you.”

           Charlie nodded. “Of course, Dean! I’m really sorry. I _try_ , but…”

           Dean held up his hand and stopped her. “Hey, I get it. It’s okay. Touching real, live patients is a little creepy. But I’m sure you can do it. So I won’t anymore. Okay?” She nodded again, gratitude in her eyes.

Dean thought that would be the end of it, until he was called up to Dr. Novak’s that evening, right before he got off work. Dean rolled his eyes at the message, but he grew more nervous for every step he took. He hovered outside Castiel’s office for a moment before simply opening the door and striding in. Castiel looked up in mild surprise, then recognition.

           “Hello, Dean,” he said, almost stiffly.

           “Hey, doc.” Then he stumbled. “-tor Novak.” Dean sat down on a chair in front of Castiel’s desk, pleased with his save.

Castiel folded his hands in front of him. “Dean, I can’t help but notice that your redheaded intern Charlie Bradbury’s procedures on patients are extremely skilled.” He paused. “So skilled, in fact, that one might think she had been doing it for years.”

           Dean laughed nervously. “Yup, well, she’s a good kid!”

           Dr. Novak raised his eyebrows a fraction. “Though I’m sure she is, that is not an excuse to be doing her procedures for her.”

           Dean swallowed and leaned forward on his elbows toward the doctor. “Hey, I know. She was just a little squeamish about touching the patients. You know firsthand, medical school just ain’t real. Besides, it’s her first month, I just thought I’d cut her a break.”

           Castiel frowned. “Well, she may not be suitable for this profession then. If she’s not comfortable touching patients, what is she doing as a nurse?”

           Dean almost rolled his eyes, but caught himself. “Dude, I told you, give her some time. I just told her this afternoon that she needs to do her own procedures from now on. Okay?”

           “Well, I hope that’s true, because if she isn’t doing her job here then I’ll have no choice but to fire her.”

This caught Dean’s attention and he knit his brows. “Wait, you can’t fire her for being nervous on her first month. She’s not even doing anything wrong. She’s just a kid. If anyone should be fired, it oughta to be me.”

           Castiel leaned back in his chair. “You realize you are jeopardizing your employment here?”

           Dean set his jaw. “Yeah, I do. But if I get fired for helping a scared kid out, then I don’t wanna work here anyway.” He stood up. “Good talk. Later, doc.” And he left the office with his head held high.

Only, while laying in bed that night, he obsessed over better comebacks that he could have said, and dreamt of bright blue.

 


	4. Chapter 4

          Regardless of Dean’s bravado in Castiel’s office, he made sure to tell Charlie that she needed to do her own procedures now, and that he’d help her when she needed it, but otherwise she had to take care of them herself.

          “Of course,” she’d said, which took a little of the weight off of Dean’s shoulders. Even so, the words _jeopardizing your employment_ haunted him for a few days, and putting him even more on edge while working on patients together with Dr. Novak; but he was careful not to let his hands shake and sweat as he hung IVs and handed the doctor tools.

          About a week had passed since Castiel had confronted Dean, and Dean had started to let down his guard a little around him. And _sure,_ he was sort of cute, but that was irrelevant, because Dean had moved on. At least, he told himself so. Until, that is, that Thursday evening. It had been a long day, and Dean was ready to go home. He threw his olive green jacket over the hoodie he was already wearing and grabbed his umbrella out of the bucket. He spotted Sam talking to Dr. Moore, the pediatrician and Dean’s friend, and waved to both of them on his way out the door. He stepped outside the glass doors underneath the overhang and snapped his umbrella open. He silently cursed himself for parking so far that day, and cursed everyone else with closer parking spots than his as he made his way down the sidewalk. Turning the corner, he spotted a hunched over figure farther down the sidewalk at the bus stop, their coat dripping from the rain beating down. Dean slowed his pace as he walked by, his suspicions confirmed as the figure turned. It was Castiel, his hair nearly black and soaking wet from the rain falling.

          “Evening, nurse,” Castiel nodded.

          “Evening, doc.” Dean nearly shouted over the din of the rain. He paused. “You take the bus home?”

          “Yes.”

          Dean bobbed his head in acknowledgement. He felt like a fool, standing there, hand out in front of him, holding his umbrella over his head and being dry as raindrops constantly pummeled Castiel. Sighing internally, he stepped forward and raised his umbrella over the other man. Castiel looked up at Dean in astonishment when he did this, and Dean purposely turned his head away to avoid the doctor’s expression, because he knew that with a single question his will would break and he’d wish the man goodnight and leave, with his umbrella over his own head. So he avoided the questioning glance and instead gazed up at the sky. It was dark gray, clouds covering the atmosphere like a blanket, and the rain slipped out of this blanket and slammed noisily down onto the umbrella covering both their heads. Dean scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

          “So, what time does the bus you take get here?” He asked, carefully casual, still avoiding looking at the doctor.

          “6:20.” Castiel said, voice level. After a short pause while Dean frantically searched for things to say, Castiel assured him, “You don’t have to do this, Dean. I don’t mind rain.” He said, but then shivered slightly, disproving what he just said. Dean pretended not to notice.

          “Well, it’s only for, like, 10 minutes,” Dean shrugged. “It’s raining pretty hard. Don’t want our chief physician catching cold. Who’d cover for you, _me_?” he chuckled quietly. Castiel laughed a little bit too, and Dean felt some of the awkwardness and tension melt off his shoulders.

          “How’s St. Paul’s treating you?” he addressed, finally turning to look at the shorter man standing next to him.

          “Very fairly. I do enjoy it here.”

          “And how’s San Francisco in general doing?” Dean refrained from saying ‘The Castro’, in case it was too forward. But Castiel picked up on it, anyway.

          “It’s very nice. Foggy, but nice. And I feel considerably more comfortable in the Castro than I did before, in Maine. Not that Portland isn’t great, because it is. But this is a very accepting place to live. I like it enough. I’ve heard the summers here are very cold, though, so we’ll see.” Castiel smiled, causing Dean to crack a grin, albeit small, as well. Then Dean sobered.

          “How are you, anyway? Like in general?” Dean glanced down at him, meeting Castiel’s eyes for a quick second until the shorter man flicked his away.

          “I assume you are referring to the episode in the stairwell a few weeks ago.” He said mildly. “I’m fine, thank you. It was a long day, and I was already overwhelmed with paperwork from many of my patients, as well as the papers concerning my entry to the hospital. But thank you.”

          “Well, uh, I… Remember how I said I’d visit the kid with you, check up on him?” Castiel nodded, and Dean pressed on. “Well, wanna do that tomorrow? You know, see how he’s doing, how the chemo’s going…” Dean trailed off as soon as he realized that he was babbling.

          “Yes, that’d be very nice. Thank you, Dean.” Castiel smiled appreciatively. Dean was just opening his mouth to say something when the bus pulled up in front of them both. As the doors opened and Castiel stepped out from under the umbrella, he turned and repeated, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean held his hand up in a goodbye, ignoring the half-choked flutter in his stomach as the bus doors closed. “No problemo.”

* * *

            The next day, Dean strolled into the hospital with a swagger in his step and more attention spent on his hair than he cared to admit. He signed his name on the timetable as he clocked in with a flourish, and made his way pleasantly to the nurses’ unit.

            “What’s gotten into you?” Meg marveled as he nearly skipped behind his desk, humming to the tune of Stairway to Heaven.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he retorted, trying to hide his smile as he shuffled through random papers on his desk. Dean poured himself a coffee out of the pot on the counter and sipped it, still smothering his smile. Meg watched him with amazement.

            “Even that liquid tar isn’t ruining your mood. What is going _on_?” she mumbled, looking up at the ceiling in question.

The rest of the day passed quickly, but not quickly enough. He had narrowly avoided being barfed on once, but the rest of the day was mostly paperwork. He started wondering when Castiel would come and see him because he hadn’t suggested a specific time the day before. But, still, the doctor could simply page him and he’d be there.

            Just before lunchtime, Meg came back into the unit and tugged her hair out of its curly brown ponytail. She picked up her chicken salad and a bag of tortilla chips and was about to leave when she turned to Dean.

            “Dude, you haven’t stopped humming all day. I think I heard some Britney Spears come out of your mouth earlier. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you high?” She asked incredulously.

            Dean rolled his eyes and took a swig of his water bottle. “Go away.”

Then Dr. Novak entered, snapping latex gloves off his hands and flinging them into the garbage as he came through the doorway. Dean immediately straightened up and set his water down. Castiel briefly searched the area, his eyes brightening a little when they settled on Dean’s.

            “Good morning, Dean.” He offered a small smile. Dean realized that he was standing straight as a pole and quickly slouched against the wall in nonchalance.

            “Hey, doc.” He said casually.

            “I have a break in my schedule right now. Would you like to visit Miles?” Castiel proposed. “I mean, if you’re free right now-“

            “Yeah, I am, let’s go!” Dean said quickly. Then he cringed to himself, and made a mental note to not answer so quickly. Meg laughed to herself, leaning on a filing cabinet, watching Dean with amusement and realization. Castiel glanced over to her in mild confusion and Dean shot her a glare that almost said ‘ _don’t embarrass me’_ and they left the room. Meg shook her head and grinned.

            As they walked over to the pediatric unit, Dean became painfully aware of the silence that grew between them. Castiel didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, but it was making Dean anxious and he started to worry. What if Castiel didn’t care about Miles anymore? What if he didn’t want to go visit him? What if he _did_ want to go visit him, just not with Dean? What if-

            “Hey, Dean. Hi, doctor.” The pediatric physician, Jessica Moore, smiled as they entered the ward. “What can I do for you?”

            Castiel glanced over at Dean and then said to Jess “We’re seeing a patient. Do you know what room Miles Luke is in?”

            Jess lifted up a paper clipped to her clipboard. “The leukemia patient? He’s in the pediatric oncology unit, uh, 435.” She looked up at them again. “He’s a real sweetheart, isn’t he?”

            Castiel glanced again at Dean before nodding his agreement. Jess bade them goodbye and the two passed through the part of the pediatric unit where the kids with cancer sometimes came out to play when they felt up to it. It was empty.

            “Hold up a second.” Dean said, and snatched a blue, green, and red plastic train off the table with the tracks. Castiel looked at the trains in his hand and then up at him, and turned away. Dean frowned. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he a saw a hint of a smile in Castiel’s eyes before he turned his head. He dismissed it as nothing, just like he dismissed the feelings that the idea provoked in his stomach.

Making the way through the 400’s, Castiel started walking slower and slower. Dean pretended not to notice, all the way until the 420’s when Castiel was hardly moving. Dean sighed, and turned to face the man beside him.

            “Hey. What’s the matter?” Dean said, bending down a little to try and catch the doctor’s eye.

            “Nothing,” Castiel muttered, ducking his head and avoiding eye contact. Dean frowned.

            “Pardon my French, but that’s total bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong? I _am_ a nurse; I’ll help you out best I can, dude.”

Castiel took a deep breath and slowly met Dean’s eyes. It electrified Dean’s spine- how were they so _blue_? -but he kept his composure and tried to look as sincere as possible.

            “I’m… nervous.” Castiel admitted. Dean’s eyebrows raised a fraction, but Castiel pushed on. “Last time I spoke to Miles, I ran away. I’m ashamed. I couldn’t handle it, which is ridiculous, honestly. I’m just embarrassed.” He started to turn away, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

            “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Kids’ cases are really tough, emotionally and mentally. I get it. And besides, he’s just a little boy. He won’t care; he probably won’t even remember. You’ll be fine. The only one here who’s upset with you is you.” Dean said earnestly. He paused, and hoped he hadn’t been babbling. Judging by Castiel’s reaction, he wasn’t too awful. He could see the gratitude and relief shining behind the doctor’s eyes. There was still some nervousness, but Castiel’s shoulders were relaxed and he looked much more at ease than before, which was good enough for Dean. Still, as they pushed the door open to Miles’s room, Castiel stepped in kind of tentatively.

            The boy looked small and frail on the vast hospital bed, swallowing him up in disinfected blankets and sterile pillows, but when he turned his head toward the doorway, his eyes brightened and a grin cracked his face when he saw Dean. Dean couldn’t help but grin back.

            “Hey, buddy!” Dean called. “Look what I brought!” He held up the three trains in his hands.

            Miles laughed in excitement. “Hi, nurse Dean! Hi, Doctor Cas!”

Castiel had been hovering by, but at the sound of his name, all the worry melted off his brow and he laughed back at they boy. “Hi, Miles. How are you feeling?”

            “I’m feeling okay. How are you feeling?” he replied, eyes on the trains Dean carried.

            Castiel seemed surprised by the question, but he answered it nonetheless. “I feel very good now.”

            Dean brought a tray over to Miles’s lap and set the trains on it. Miles clapped happily, then winced. “Ouch.” He rubbed at the IV in his arm and then looked at Dean knowingly. “Doctor Sam says not to pull on it.”

            Dean smiled. “I say so, too. Now- which train are you gonna be?”

            Miles quickly snatched up James, which left the green and blue trains. Dean pulled up a chair beside the boy’s bed and motioned for Castiel to do the same. They both sat down on opposite sides of the hospital bed while Miles hummed. “You should be Percy, because you have green eyes, and he has green paint!” he declared, handing the green toy to Dean. Miles studied Castiel’s face, then gasped in delight. “And _your_ eyes are blue! So you _have_ to be Thomas.”

            Castiel took the blue train from Miles gratefully. Miles sang a happy tune to himself as he pushed the train around the tray across his lap. “ _Oh yes it’s great to be an engine when you’re speeding along, puff puff puffing along_ …” he chirped quietly. Dean laughed, and looked in amusement at Castiel, who was watching the boy with a sort of happy wonder.

            “Zoom zoom!” Miles squealed. “Hi, Percy! Do you have any mail for me today?” He asked the train in Dean’s hand. Dean glanced over at Castiel, then shrugged and exclaimed, “Yes, James! A letter from your mom, a letter from Train College, and a coupon for Train Ice Cream!”

            Miles burst into peals of laughter. “Train ice cream! That’s _silly_ , nurse Dean!”

            Dean bumped his train into the one Mile held. “ _You’re_ silly.”

Castiel pushed his train between the two. “Hello, James and Percy. Gordon says he’s faster than me, and I want to prove him wrong. I challenge you two to a race!”

            Miles giggled. “It’s on!”

            Dean and Castiel spent nearly ten minutes fixing up a ramp beside Miles on the hospital bed, using clipboards and cups from around the room to make the ultimate racing surface, propping up two trays and taping straws to the sides as a railing. Finally, when the ramp was built and in its full glory, the three lined up their trains at the top and glared at each other.

            “I’m takin’ you down, Thomas,” Dean hissed.

            “Not a chance, Percy.” Castiel squinted.

            “You’re both going down!” Miles exclaimed.

            “One… two… three!”

            The blue and green trains just happened to start a full second after Miles’s had started, but as they all zoomed down the plastic ramp, it seemed that they were heavier and they got close behind James. Whether they’d like to admit it or not, all three boys were on the edges of their seats with anticipation. But James pulled ahead and smacked into the bedding at the base of the ramp. Miles cheered. “ _Yesssss_!”

            Dean and Castiel grinned at each other and booed at Miles in feigned disappointment. “No way. I want a rematch!”

            This is how Jess found them twenty minutes later, cheering and shouting after who knows how many more races. “Hey, Miles, are you ready for your-” she lowered the bag of medicine in her hand. “What are you children doing?”

            They all turned, sheepish, to the blonde woman in the doorway.

            “Uh… What are _you_ doing?” Dean retorted. Miles guffawed, which made Dean snort, and that sent Castiel into gales of laughter. Soon, they were all laughing gaily, the crinkles deepening around Dean’s eyes. Even Jess cracked a smile, which she tried to suppress as she ushered the two out of the room.

            “Go away, you two. You’re ridiculous.” She pushed them out of the door. Dean and Castiel looked at each other outside the door, and then burst into laughter all over again.

            “Oh, man,” Dean wheezed, grinning. “I haven’t played with trains for years.”

            Castiel chuckled. “We really did act like children.”

            “Yeah,” Dean snorted. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i know this was pretty short, i'm sorry, it just looks so much longer on microsoft word... sorry about that, i just really wanted to get something put out by now. anyway, i plan to update this chapter with some more writing soon- at least, i'll try, so stay tuned!!
> 
> okay! so i just got off a four hour flight last night, and i wrote for at least half of it, so everything under the line is the fruit of that (and also some of the next chapter)! enjoy!!


	5. Chapter 5

Visiting Miles became a regular activity for them, and they always enjoyed it, but Dean couldn’t help noticing that each time they came to visit, Miles seemed weaker and his laughs morphed into coughs faster and faster. Regardless, they never failed to bring movies and trains for him, and always left him happier than he had been before. Sometimes his parents were there, so they had to keep those visits tame, (which meant no train racing or screaming) but Dean wanted Miles to have the best childhood he could give him. Castiel and he talked about this over coffee one Saturday morning in the Haight District.

            “I dunno, I just feel really bad for the kid. Like, leukemia. Yeesh.” Dean replied when Castiel asked him why he spent so much time and energy on Miles when he wasn’t even his patient.

            “I feel the same way. He deserves so much better than what he’s been given, he’s such a sweet kid.” Castiel agreed, sipping his iced coffee.

            “He’s getting worse.” Dean said, looking down at his croissant. “The chemo can’t be good on a kid that size. His vitals aren’t strong enough, it’ll only make them worse.”

            Castiel looked at Dean in a sort of amazement. “You know, I barely know anything having to do with cancer, but you know everything about everything in this hospital. God, nurses are so under credited. How _do_ you do it?”

            Dean averted his eyes and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m nothing special.”

            Castiel frowned. “You really are, though. Hey, aren’t we near some old hipster bookshop? You think they have Thomas the Tank Engine anything? We could bring Miles a gift. I’ve seen gifts and pets and things improve patients’ conditions more than you’d believe.”

            Dean was still thinking about Castiel’s saying he was special, but he pushed that out of his mind for the time being. “That’s a great idea. He’d love some of those little gold-spined books with the wooden pages, I think.” He stood up and scraped the metal-wrought café chair back underneath the table, and Castiel did the same. They headed down the street a couple blocks until they got to a small bookstore stuffed to the brim with old, loved paperbacks and hardcovers. The children’s section, to Dean’s delight, had funny little stuffed animals as bookends.

            “Hey, look at this one!” Dean grinned, holding up a blue pinstriped dog. Castiel shook his head and smiled, sifting through the shelves. Somewhere along the way, he got off track and ended up in the clearance part of the store, way in the back of the skinny shop where it smelled like old paper and dust. Dean found him back there after ducking between countless shelves of cookbooks and old musicians’ autobiographies.

            “What are you doing back here? We’re supposed to be looking for Thomas the Tank Engine,” Dean asked in a teasing tone. Castiel tore his attention from the shelves to Dean.

            “Oops.” He shrugged, grinning. “I can’t help it. I love the clearance section of old bookstores. That’s where the most creased, dog-eared books are.” Dean regarded him in confusion.

            “…And why would you want those?”

Castiel smiled, running his fingers over the spines. “Because, Dean, the most creased, dog-eared books are always the most loved. And the most loved books are always the best, regardless of the content.”

            Dean rolled his eyes affectionately. “Cas, honestly, you’re ridiculous.” Despite himself, he started searching through the clearance shelf alongside him.

            Castiel looked at him in surprise. “Cas?”

            Dean peered at him from behind a book that he’d pulled out and was currently reading the back. "Huh?"

            “You just called me Cas,” Castiel said pointedly. “You’ve never done that before.”

            Dean gripped the book a little tighter. “Oh, uh, sorry. Do you not like that? I won’t do it again, if you want…”

            Castiel kept looking at him almost curiously. “No. I like it.” Then he turned away and kept searching through the shelves. Dean rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and snapped the book in his other hand closed with a _thump._ He opened his mouth a couple times, only to bite down again before any words could form, and instead helped carry some books out for the doctor who ended up buying four tattered paperbacks.

            “You really like books, huh?” Dean remarked, grinning as he held two under his arm while they waited for the trolley. Castiel smiled, facing forward across the street.

            “Well, who doesn’t? I’ve always been a huge reader, from since I was a kid, even though the first books I read were those picture-book Bible stories.” He tilted his head, still looking ahead of him. “Not that those aren’t great, but they do start you off with a very judgmental view of the world.”

            Dean nodded, watching the cars drive by the little shops. “I get it. So you came from a really religious family?”

            “Yes.”

            “That makes sense, you know, your name and all.” Dean remarked. Then he paused and scuffed his shoes against the sidewalk. “They, uh… Did they take the whole, um…” he coughed. “You know, you being gay?”

            “No,” Castiel said, his voice even. “I didn’t receive the best response to my sexuality. My brother Michael probably took it the worst. He is part of the reason I’ve been on my own since I finished college.”

           “Oh, jeez.” Dean blew air out from his cheeks. “What about your parents? They never helped you out?”

            Castiel shook his head, causing Dean to turn his head and look at him with concern.

            “No, uh, my parents were out of the picture pretty early. First it was my mom, then my dad. He, uh, couldn’t seem to handle being left behind with five kids- he ended himself with one too many bottles of whiskey. Michael took over in charge, he had just turned twenty and he had a good job at the bank. He was just as strict as my mother and father, if not more. I was only about fourteen at the time, just starting to question why I didn’t feel attracted to the girls that my few friends never stopped talking about. It was… rough.” Castiel said this directly to Dean, not breaking eye contact in a way that made Dean feel slightly uncomfortable and kind of flushed. He could only nod in understanding and watch a couple people straggle in next to them at the trolley stop.

            “I think the most unpleasant part was the total rejection I faced. Hearing all these positive coming-out stories, you know, you have higher expectations… whether or not you realize it.” Castiel was speaking to the air in front of him, or maybe to himself, but it was enthralling for Dean to see this softer, more human side of Castiel. He was about to say something positive in agreement -he didn’t know what, exactly- when the trolley pulled up. It wasn’t as crowded as they usually were so he and Castiel were able to snag two empty seats.

            Castiel acknowledged the lack of tourists. “Looks like this has been by the Wharf already. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an actual seat on a trolley before.”

            Dean chuckled. “We’re pretty far from SoMa and the Golden Gate, so I think we’re safe.”

            They bumped over the rails in silence for a minute until Dean said, “Tell me more about your story. You know, what you were saying before the tram came.”

            Castiel looked at him straight in the eyes for an uncomfortable second before obliging. “Well, the rejection.”

            Dean smiled a soft smile, watching the doctor as he spoke with clear interest and encouragement. Talking about feelings was hardly his thing, but suddenly listening to Castiel seemed like the most interesting thing that he could possibly do.

            “Michael completely barred me from my family. I finished college without hearing from him at all, only receiving a couple calls from Gabriel every couple of months that made me feel at all connected to my family. After medical school, I honestly expected to be accepted right back in. I had no idea the severity with which Michael viewed me.” He chuckled darkly. “He said I was absolutely forbidden from ever speaking to anyone else in the family. As of now, I have no idea how any of them are.”

            Dean didn’t know what to say. He became aware of the frown creasing his forehead and blurted, “Man, that sucks.”

            Castiel turned to him almost in amusement with his eyebrows raised.

Dean hastily pressed on. “I mean, wow. You’re really strong, you know. If I couldn’t ever talk to my brother again, I think I’d break down. You really have no clue how any of your family is?”

            Castiel shook his head, his lips pressed together tightly. “Nope.” Dean looked so distressed by this concept that Castiel laughed a little. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve gotten used to it. Really,” he added, ducking his head down to meet Dean’s eyes. “Here, I’ll tell you something funny now.” And he was just about to when the trolley pulled to a stop in the middle of a residential area. A couple more people filed on, and Dean stood up.

            “Oh, is this where you live?” Castiel asked quietly.

            Dean looked out at the houses and glanced back at Cas. "Uh, yeah." He swallowed.

            Castiel stood up and planted a smile on his face. Dean returned it, pointedly not noticing that Castiel's didn't quite reach his eyes. "It was a lot of fun today!" He said, mentally frowning on how much that sounded like the closing at the of a date.

            "Yes. I'm sure Miles will love the picture books you bought him." 

            "Hey now," Dean started. "We picked them out together."

There was a pause of awkward silence, then the engine of the tram started up again. Dean hopped off quickly.

            "See you at the hospital!" He called as the trolley pulled away. Castiel replied with a wave and a smile.

Dean stood there until the trolley disappeared over the edge of a hill, then shook his head and turned on his way inside.

Later, in his bed, he only allowed himself right before he drifted to sleep to reflect on how date-like their outing really had been, and what might have happened if he'd stayed on that trolley.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! sorry this took so long to put up, but it's a long one! all the places in this story are based on real life places, even castiel's house!  
> (and each is in the exact spot of SF in the story -except the book store- that it is in real life!)  
> thanks! :)
> 
> Edit: i changed a lot of this because i didn't feel comfortable with the pacing. I felt they were getting a bit out of character, so i've rewritten the ending of this and the next couple chapters!


	6. Chapter 6

           “Mornin’, Becky,” Dean greeted as he pushed through the glass doors the next day.

           “Morning, Dean!” She chirped back, cheery as ever. He shot finger guns at her, and again at Meg when she snorted as she passed him. ‘Back in the USSR’ was playing in his earbuds as he went through his daily rounds and filled out paperwork, and he definitely _didn’t_ notice the lack of a certain attending physician as he went from patient to patient.

           “How are you feeling today, Mrs Roberts?” he asked cordially as he entered the room of a rheumatoid arthritis patient.

           “Eh, no complaints,” she allowed, lying back on her bed. “Not any worse than normal.” She glanced up at Dean. “You doctors got any new treatments to cure me yet?”

Dean laughed and picked up her chart. “Mrs Roberts, I’m not a doctor, I’m just a nurse. But regarding treatment options, that’s actually why I came to see you. A study has revealed acupuncture can actually help reduce levels of TNF-alpha for people with RA. Since you don’t want to take antibiotics, this could be a pliable option for you.”

The older woman pressed the button to elevate the back of the bed. “Acupuncture, huh?” she laughed dryly. “Who knew there’d come a day where someone would be sticking needles in me to stop my knees from hurting so damn bad.”

           “I’ve heard acupuncture is very therapeutic, as well,” a deep, gravelly voice offered from the doorway.

Dean exerted legendary self control in turning toward the source of the sound as nonchalantly as possible. “Doctor,” he greeted, ducking his head a little when he turned to see that the doctor was already staring at him.

Castiel stepped forward and Dean handed Mrs Roberts’s chart to him.

           “Dean, who’s this?” She looked questioningly at Dean. “Where’s Dr. Henricksen?”

           “He transferred to Highland. This is Dr. Novak, he’s the new head attending.”

           Castiel leaned forward and shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

           Mrs Roberts fluffed her feathery white hair a little and smiled as coyly as a woman in her late sixties could. “The pleasure’s mine, Doctor.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned a shit-eating grin at Cas who looked mildly taken aback. Dean stifled his laughter when she pressed on.

           “So, Doctor. Who will be the one putting needles in me?”

           Cas coughed a little. “Um, an expert in the field, I presume. Which I am not,” he added quickly.

She looked mildly disappointed, then smirked at Dean, a sort of _oh well, what can you do_ look on her face. He grinned and shook his head at her affectionately. Castiel informed her of the benefits and technicalities of acupuncture therapy. She agreed after some thinking and mild flirting, and Castiel left the room in a hurry.

           “You dirty devil,” Dean laughed as he scribbled notes onto her chart. “You’re married!”

She raised her eyebrows defensively. “Well, he isn’t!”

He left the room chuckling.

           After tending to a several patients in the ICU, replacing IVs and taking blood sugar and running tests, he made his way tiredly back to his desk. He plopped down to file routine paperwork and was plotting to buy ten thousand chocolate chunk cookies as soon as he finished typing when a voice like gravel startled him out of his sugary stupor.

           “Dean. I was looking for you.”

           Dean sighed and pushed back his chair. “Why? Did I do something wrong? I’m doing a lot of paperwork right now-”

           “Do you want to go hang out with Miles?” Castiel asked.

           “Oh- oh, sure! Yeah.” He stood up quickly. “These papers’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

           “Yeah.” Cas lifted a plastic tub, previously obscured from Dean’s view, filled with plastic trains and wooden train tracks and shook it. The toys rattled and Dean grinned.

           “Sweet. Let’s roll.”

           They chatted amicably on the way up to the fourth floor. Dean was in the middle of telling a long, ridiculous joke about a penguin and a farmer when they saw Sam and Jess, exiting the very room they were headed toward, looking forlorn. Dean trailed off and the smile slowly slid from Castiel’s face as they caught sight of their expressions.

           “What? What is it?” Dean asked incriminatingly.

Jess looked up at Sam, who had a subdued expression on his face. “Chemo’s making Miles weak.” He admitted.

Dean pushed. “So? Chemo makes everybody weak.”

Sam sighed, and Jess spoke up in his unwillingness to. “This is a little boy. A tiny little kid. He’s extremely weak and fatigued.” She paused. “I think he’s taking a turn for the worse, honestly.”

Castiel inhaled sharply and Dean set his jaw. “Okay.” He clenched his teeth. “ _Okay_. Great. This is fantastic. God! What am I going to do? What am I going to tell the parents? ‘ _He lived a good six years_ ’? Son of a fucking- _God_!”

           Castiel was gripping the plastic tub tightly. “Come on, Dean, it’s nothing we didn’t expect.” He said softly, regardless of the pain in his own eyes. “Why don’t we run out for some food? That always makes you feel better.”

           Dean, still as tense as a rod, nodded stiffly, and the pair headed down to the world outside the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i realize this took much, much longer than originally intended, but i have this nasty habit of losing interest extremely quickly in projects i'm devoted to. really. i had started to accept i'd never get this chapter done (i had an entire different direction planned, but deleted it all when i realized my pacing was awful). honestly, the only reason i came back was because i got two emails that 2 people had given this work kudos!! nothing makes you glow more than that. and i really didn't want to disappoint, so here you are!  
> an extension will be posted up soon to this chapter. i just really needed to publish something. thank you!!! :)


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